


Life After War (Dancing With You)

by low_battery_laptop



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fictober 2019, Fluff, Love Confessions, Mentions of Dimitri/Byleth, Mentions of Sylvain/Felix, Post-Time Skip, Useless Lesbian Ingrid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 13:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21075428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/low_battery_laptop/pseuds/low_battery_laptop
Summary: Thoughts of love plagued Ingrid’s mind until she returned to her old dorm. There, warm in her bed, she began to drift to sleep with the image of a smiling Mercedes in her mind.Suddenly, she was wide awake, eyes open in the dark.“Oh,” she whispered to herself.Day Seventeen of Fictober with the prompt "There's just something about her."





	Life After War (Dancing With You)

The war came to an end, and it felt like a dream. Ingrid watched from the crowd as Byleth and Dimitri walked from Edelgard’s throne room, hand in hand. They looked to each other as the Kingdom’s army erupted into cheering. What was left of the Empire threw down their weapons in surrender. Victory was theirs, but her professor, and her king, looked as if they were in another world entirely. Ingrid smiled to herself. After everything, she was happy for them. 

Tearing her eyes away from them both, she looked around the crowd for Mercedes. In the chaos, she had lost sight of her friend, but found her tending to the wounded only a short ways away. Ingrid moved through the crowd to her, wordlessly offering her help with what little white magic she had. Mercedes, covered in the blood of those she healed, smiled when she saw her. Some kind of emotion she couldn’t quite put a name to swelled in Ingrid’s heart at the sight. 

When Dimitri announced his engagement to Byleth a few months after their victory, no one was surprised. Most congratulated them; Ingird playfully asked Dimitri what took him so long to finally figure out his feelings. He had always looked to the professor with love in his eyes, and towards the end of the war, they spent far too much time together to not be lovers. 

However, their coming wedding reminded Ingrid that with the war over, she too would be expected to settle down soon. The marriage arrangements her father wrote to her about would continue, unless she renounced her family completely. When a letter arrived for her, she began to consider it. With Byleth’s permission, Ingrid stayed in Garreg Mach, both to help with the wedding, and to sort out what she was going to do with the rest of her life.

The time she spent as a pegasus knight had been a good one, but Ingrid didn’t know if she wanted to dedicate the rest of her life to war anymore. She had been so determined to honor the memory of Glenn, and for a time, desired to die as he did: fighting for what he believed in. Now her perspective was changing. Her admiration for Glenn would never fade, and she still held onto his ideals of justice, but war had been hard on her. She had watched as people she cared about came close to death, had spent too many sleepless nights wondering if she should have had dinner with Sylvain and Felix, or asked Mercedes to join her for tea. Each day could have been their last. 

No, she decided, as she watched Byleth and Dimitri exchange their vows the day of the wedding, she couldn’t devote her life to war any longer. At the afterparty, while the couples took to the dance floor in the reception hall, Ingrid slipped away to the library. She was going to put an end to her father’s incessant need to marry her for money, once and for all. 

Yet as she sat in silence, quill in her hand, she couldn’t find the right words. Ingrid didn’t  _ need _ to give her father a reason, but she felt it would soften the blow if she told him she found something else to dedicate her life to. She was so focused on what to say that she didn’t hear approaching footsteps.

“Ingrid?” The voice of Mercedes made her jump, and she nearly knocked over the ink jar next to her. Mercedes giggled. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“It’s alright Mercy,” Ingrid assured her, steadying herself. “I was just lost in thought.” She paused. Mercedes was like her, in the way that her father wished to marry her off for money as well. “I’ve finally decided to take control of my own life, and tell my father to stop with these ridiculous marriage proposals.”

Mercedes took a seat at the other side of the table. In the low light, Ingrid could see the hint of makeup she wore. She had painted her lips a reddish color for the occasion, but all it reminded Ingrid of was the blood that covered her during the war. How many nights had they spent together in the bathhouse, washing the blood from each others hair?

“Oh?” Mercedes smiled. “Has the wedding made you realize you’re in love with someone?”

Ingrid laughed, until she realized Mercedes was genuine in her question. “No, nothing of the sort. I’ve just come to realize that I don’t want to settle in life. But I don’t know how to tell him that.”

Mercedes rested her hands in her face, thinking. “Hmm…” She tilted her head, and her earrings swung to one side. “Perhaps you could tell him you’ve decided to take after the professor, and become a roaming knight, defending the weak and innocent.”

Ingrid shook her head. “As strange as it sounds, I don’t know if I want to be a knight anymore.” She sighed. “I don’t know what I want to do with my life at all. Maybe I shouldn’t contact my father until I know myself.”

“What if you become a member of the church, like me?”

Ingrid nearly said no, on instinct, but she stopped herself before she could speak. Even though she grew up in the Holy Kingdom, she never felt a strong connection to the church of Seiros. Yet the idea of working alongside Mercedes, helping people who needed it through magic, didn’t seem like a bad choice.

“I… will have to think about that,” Ingrid finally said. “Thank you, Mercedes.”

“Of course! What are friends for?” Mercedes stood up from the table. “Now,” she continued. “I think you’ve cooped yourself up in here long enough worrying over what to say to your father.” She offered a hand to Ingrid. “You should enjoy yourself for once!”

She couldn’t say no to Mercedes. Ingrid took her hand, and let herself be led back to the reception hall. Music still flowed from the orchestra that played, and though Byleth and Dimitri had disappeared, plenty of people still danced and drank. Ingrid spotted Sylvain near the tables covered in wine glasses, pulling Felix to the dance floor. She wondered how long it would take the two of them to follow in the footsteps of the professor and the king. 

Ingrid was shaken from her thoughts when she realized Mercedes was also pulling her to the dance floor. There was no time for her to protest. Another song began to play, and Mercedes already had her hand slipped around Ingrid’s back. Her heart raced, mostly out of embarrassment. It had been far too long since she had danced properly, and the song that played was almost too upbeat and fast for her to keep up. More than once, she found herself tripping over her own feet, but Mercedes just smiled and laughed. 

“Are you having fun yet, Ingrid?” she asked. 

Despite herself, Ingrid found that Mercedes smile made their awkward dance far more enjoyable. “I am,” she said. “Thank you Mercy.”

By the time a second song began, Ingrid had let go of her anxiety. She realized that almost everyone left in the reception hall was too wine drunk to dance smoothly. Sylvain tripped himself, and nearly toppled over onto Felix. Both Ingrid and Mercedes lost their rhythm and laughed at the sight. Soon after, Felix had pulled Sylvain down to whisper something in his ear. The two ended their dance, and wandered off from the reception hall. 

Perhaps they were figuring it out faster than Ingrid had imagined they would. She smiled to herself as she had when Byleth and Dimitri announced their engagement. It was good to see her friends finding love, even if deep down, it made her wish for romance herself. 

The second song ended, and so did Ingrid’s dancing with Mercedes. They retired to the tables, and each had a glass of wine, watching the party wind down. Thoughts of love plagued Ingrid’s mind until she returned to her old dorm. There, warm in her bed, she began to drift to sleep with the image of a smiling Mercedes in her mind. 

Suddenly, she was wide awake, eyes open in the dark. 

“Oh,” she whispered to herself. 

The day following the reception, Ingrid sought out Sylvain, finding him disheveled but quite happy outside his old room. She didn’t ask, didn’t  _ need _ to ask, what had happened the night before. Instead she invited him to lunch. Sylvain began to protest, say something about  _ other plans _ , but Ingrid knew he wouldn’t be in Garreg Mach for much longer, and she couldn’t wait. She felt like her heart would explode if she did. 

Thankfully, her urgency reached Sylvain, and he agreed to meet with her. 

The dining hall wasn’t too busy when they met, but even then, Ingrid kept her voice down. 

“How do you know when you’re in love?” Usually, she would have liked to exchange a few pleasantries before jumping into what she really wanted to talk about. Now, however, she didn’t have the time. Sylvain nearly choked on a bit of grilled pheasant. 

After his coughing subsided, and shook his head. “What did you just ask me?”

“You heard me Sylvain,” Ingrid said. “How do you know?”

Sylvain set his fork back down on his plate, and blinked a few times. “Sorry, I uh, need a minute.  _ Where _ is this coming from?” His eyes went wide. “If this is about me and--”

“It’s about me,” she assured him. “But I’m not sure of myself. It’s… different than Glenn.”

He leaned back in chair and sighed. “I’m not really the best person to ask here,” he told her. “Why not ask the professor?”

“Do you really think I’d be able to seperate those two a  _ day _ after their wedding?” Ingrid scoffed. “And besides, you have a bit more experience with… with women.”

Sylvain leaned forward suddenly, slamming his hands on the table. She winced, knowing he would draw unwanted attention, even without looking around her. “Ingrid, there are only so many things you can say to me in one day.”

“Can you please just answer my question?” She was ready to start begging. “How do you know when you’re in love? And how do you even know if a-- a woman likes you in that--”

“We’re going for a walk.” Sylvain stood, and didn’t wait for Ingrid before he walked towards the door of the dining hall. She had to scramble to catch up to him. “Okay,” he said. He seemed more comfortable walking and talking, and as much as Ingrid wanted to be annoyed, she could forgo any anger as long as she got her advice. “So there’s a girl, yeah?”

“Yes.” Ingrid felt her face flush. 

“How does she make you feel?”

For a moment, she had to think: how did Mercedes make her feel? “Happy,” she said. 

“Anything else?”

Ingrid took another moment to think. “There’s just something about her,” she began. “When I think about the rest of my life, nothing feels right unless she’s there with me.” The image of a smiling Mercedes came into her mind again, and more quietly, Ingrid said, “Her smile is more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen.”

When she looked to Sylvain, he had a knowing grin on his face. “Yeah,” he breathed out. “You’ve got it real bad, Ingrid.”

“So what do I do?”

He shrugged. “You could tell her,” he suggested. “Or, you could bottle up your feelings for years, then suddenly confess one day and wonder how you got this far without telling her.” Sylvain was speaking from experience now. “I  _ highly _ recommend the first one.”

Just the thought of telling Mercedes that she was in love with her made Ingrid’s heart race. 

“How long has it been anyway?” Sylvain asked. 

“I… just found out last night,” Ingrid said. But looking back, thinking about how overjoyed she had felt, seeing Mercedes alive after five years, how each time an arrow struck her or an Imperial soldier tried to cut her down, she would fly into a terrified rage, maybe she had been in love for a while. She thought about the time they spent together, drinking tea and laughing over old stories, or complaining about their fathers. The memories made her feel warm. She had absolutely been in love for a while. 

“You and me both,” Sylvain whispered. 

“Thank you, Sylvain.” Ingrid stopped walking, and he turned to her. “I really do appreciate it.”

He smiled, and winked. “Always happy to help.”

* * *

Now, all she had to do was tell her. In theory, that should have been easy. Ingrid could invite her to tea, or to dinner, or ask Mercedes to meet her in the reception hall, and ask her to dance again even though they had no music. Each time she had her chance, however, she chickened out. A week passed, and while there was no danger of Mercedes leaving Garreg Mach, each day that passed weighed more and more on Ingrid. 

She wanted it all to be perfect, but the time never came. So, instead of fretting over how she was going to tell Mercedes, she focused on the letter she needed to write to her father. Once more, she sat in the library, only this time she knew what to write. The words flowed onto the page. Ingrid told her father she was in love, and wouldn’t marry for money no matter what he said. She accepted the risk of being disowned; it hardly bothered her now. 

While she was focused on her letter, she didn’t hear the footsteps in the library until they came close to her. Ingrid jumped at the sight of Mercedes. 

“I see you found the words you needed for your father,” she said, smiling. 

Ingrid nodded. “It took me a while, but yes. I have.”

“So does that mean you’re going to take me up on my offer?”

In all the chaos of discovering she was in love, Ingrid had forgotten about her suggestion to join the church. “I… sort of forgot. Forgive me.” Even then, that didn’t wipe the smile from her face. 

“It’s quite alright Ingrid. As long as you’ve found something that makes you happy.”

Her heart was threatening to beat its way out of her chest. “I have,” Ingrid said quietly. “I… I have been meaning to talk to you about this, actually.”

“Oh?”

The dozens of way that Ingrid wanted to tell her ran through her mind in a matter of seconds, but none of those words seemed like they would be enough. Instead, Ingrid found herself standing from the desk, walking around it to where Mercedes was. She was always a woman of action anyway, she mused as she took Mercedes by the hand and kissed her. 

The way Mercedes kissed her back, and squeezed her hand, told Ingrid everything she needed to know. “I want to spend my life with you, Mercy.”

Ingrid pulled back to breathe, but Mercedes kissed her once more, and slid her hand around her back to pull her closer, the same way she had when they danced. When she whispered in Ingrid’s ear  _ “I love you, you know,” _ all the worries she had over where her future would take her washed away. 

“I had hoped you would have taken the hint a week ago,” Mercedes giggled in between kisses. 

Ingrid froze. “You mean, the dance?”

Mercedes nodded. “And when I implied you were in love with someone.”

They both laughed. “You were right,” Ingrid said. “I am in love.” 

**Author's Note:**

> After five days of no inspiration, I got hit with the need to write a bunch of big ol' happy sapphic fluff, and honestly there isn't enough Ingrid/Mercedes in this world. And now that this is done, I'm tempted to write a companion piece with Sylvain and Felix. Sylvix week fanfiction has been killing me.
> 
> As usual, you can find me over on twitter @lowbatlaptop.


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